Chapter 2

Matt Curran was furious with himself when he woke, his head splitting, the next morning. At the age of thirty-two and as England cricket captain he was supposed to behave more responsibly than trying to drunkenly seduce some girl. To set an example.

What if there had been any paparazzi around? It may have been night, but you never knew where they may be. What if she was a reporter? Matt remembered the notebook and camera he’d seen her with on the beach, which had instantly raised his suspicions.

And yet there had been something about her… Even hungover, in a blur of pain and self-condemnation, he couldn’t help remembering a pair of shining eyes.

The phone was flashing by the bed, he’d missed several messages. He knew who they were from. Miggy. She had also left several messages with the hotel concierge.

She was supposed to be in the middle of filming. He’d wanted a break from it all, to clear his head. Wives and girlfriends weren’t joining them on this part of the tour.

He should have been glad, he supposed, that Miggy was calling him. After all there were plenty of men who would have liked to be in his shoes, dating her. She was a celebrity IT-girl and occasional model, and as a high profile couple they were rarely out of the tabloids.

But the more unanswered messages she’d left, the more annoyed with him she would be getting and the less he felt like returning her calls. Matt was also bracing himself to face the team this morning. Hopefully most of them would be even worse for wear and nothing would get said.

What goes on tour stays on tour. For the first time, Matt personally hoped the tenet held true.

Despite his better intentions he found himself casting an eye out for Cara at breakfast. He told himself that it was just to check she was who she said she was - just a tourist - and not busy filing some "Cheating Cricket Love-Rat" exclusive for one of the tabloids.

But he couldn’t totally kid himself that was why he was looking. Or that he wasn’t disappointed that she didn’t appear.

A couple of his team mates joined him at his table and he faced the expected ribbing. Jokes about playing away, and Miggy having his head on the railings. She wasn’t known for having an easy temper.

Matt trusted them not to say anything back home but his nerves were on edge.

"You going to see her again?" one of the bowlers asked him.

"I will if you won’t," another said. Matt gritted his teeth at the tone.

"No, you bloody won’t," he said. The thought of it strangely revulsed him, even though he was used to hearing of good-time girls that worked their way around half the team. "You can concentrate on the game."

He knew he didn’t sound convincing, all the more when there were raised eyebrows and further grins. "Miggy’s got competition then?"

"There’s nothing going on, just drop it. Forget it," he told them and left. He was determined to forget it. He needed to improve his act and start comporting himself like their captain, setting an example to the younger lads instead of behaving like the worst player out there.

They had kissed for what seemed like hours, though of course it couldn’t have been.

Then he’d asked her back to his room, and she’d panicked and fled. Well, not literally fled but she had returned to her own room very quickly.

What must he think of her? Letting him kiss her before she even knew his name? Practically allowing herself to be seduced by him in the sea, in front of everyone.

Cara blushed for her behaviour a hundred times. Thank goodness it had been dark. Perhaps no one had seen much, or at least wouldn’t recognise her. She was going to wear her largest sunglasses from now on and dine in her room.

Yet her mind wouldn’t stop replaying everything that had happened. How her skin shivered with delight when his hands encircled her waist. How her stomach had jolted when his lips came down on hers. The burning intensity in his eyes.

How much she had wanted him. She had never felt anything like that kind of abandoned, physical longing for Declan. With Matt it had been like a thirst she needed to quench.

She realised she was smiling, just thinking of it all. Perhaps everyone should have a fling once in their lives, to get it out of their system, she thought.

She was a free agent after all. She owed nothing to anyone, least of all Declan. What had happened had happened. She would put it down to too much drink and too much sun. And too much moonlight.

Having skipped breakfast Cara ordered a fruit juice in the hotel lobby. It was a tranquil place at this time of day, with palms and flowers in large pots forming an indoor garden. An elderly couple, whom she’d seen in the dining room the night before, greeted her. They were sitting at a nearby table, the man wearing a Panama hat and reading a newspaper, and the woman doing some knitting.

"Exciting to be staying at the same hotel as the England players, isn’t it? We had no idea they’d be here," the woman said to her.

"What England players?" Cara was confused.

"The England cricket team. Surely you’ve seen them about the place?"

A horrible realisation was starting to dawn on Cara.

Matt… Cricket…

She glanced at the back of the man’s newspaper, where the sporting pages were, and saw a photo of the man she’d been kissing last night.

She didn’t need to read his full name, though there it was in print. Matt Curran, England captain.

"Are you alright dear? You look a little shaken," the woman said.

"I’m quite fine," Cara tried to reassure her. She wasn’t fine at all. The man she had been all over last night, publicly, was the captain of the England cricket team.

Even though she didn’t follow cricket she knew who he was, and whom he dated. His girlfriend was even more famous than he was. He was completely off limits. Completely out of her league. It made her feel even trashier about her behaviour the previous night. That day, in fact, since it had been in the early hours of the morning when she had finally parted from him.

"Excuse me," she said to the couple, and rushed back to her room, her eyes blurring with tears of mortification.

Not looking where she was going, Cara collided with someone for the second time that week.

And she knew, almost before she bumped into him, that it was Matt Curran.

"Are you a reporter?"

He knew as soon as he blurted it out that it was the worst thing to say, let alone in such an aggressive tone.

"No, why?" Cara was completely confused. Why did he look so angry, so suspicious? His bronzed face was rigid, unyielding. He looked even more furious than he had done on the beach.

Yet she couldn’t stop looking at his lips. Remembering how they felt on hers, wanting him all over again. She bit her lip and tried to maintain her composure. What did one say in this sort of circumstance?

"Was this some sort of sting? Are you working for one of the tabloids?" he asked, his tone no less demanding then before.

Cara was bewildered. "No, I’m just here on holiday." She didn’t know what else to say.

They stood there for a moment, both at a loss. She was looking into his eyes and beyond his distrust she could see a deep weariness.

He saw that he had made her embarrassed and uncomfortable, and it affected him more than he would have liked.

Matt broke the awkward silence.

"Last night…" he faltered, he wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say anymore.

"…was a mistake," she finished for him. "I’m sorry, I have to be somewhere." She had nowhere to be, nowhere to go since her room was in the opposite direction and she could hardly turn back past him now. She hurried off, her eyes blurring with tears.

He wanted to call after her but there were people around and making a scene would be even worse. He saw her slight figure moving into the distance.

If she was a reporter he just had totally screwed himself. And if she wasn’t a reporter he had just been unconscionably rude to her. Either way, he was going to have to seek her out and apologise to her.

And given the reaction he felt whenever he encountered her, seeking her out would be playing with fire.

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